Maudie's Solitude
by TheUnfoldingWarmth
Summary: A scene during which Maudie's house burns down and Atticus finds himself accepting his feelings for Maudie, deep down, but is still unable to reveal them to her. One-shot, straight through. Not exactly like the book, but characters are still in character.


Maudie's Solitude

_By: TheUnfoldingWarmth_

The small town of Maycomb was in a flurry that night. News got around fast that a fire was ablaze in someone's house. Citizens of the county looked up to find smoke rising in the dark night sky and confirmed it. The question was, whose house?

Well, that too was sure too spread almost faster than the fire: Maudie's house. No one knew what happened to make her house catch, but there was soon a crowd growing as fast as summer weeds to see the spectacular event.

Atticus Finch jolted awake from where he had fallen asleep at the desk in his study. He was still fully clothed, but his slumber had caused his vest and neatly-pressed, white shirt to wrinkle a little. He heard a commotion outside and slowly pushed himself out of his chair.

Scout hurried into the study still in her nightgown. She said in a rush, "Miss Maudie's house is on fire, Atticus!"

Atticus was sure his heart stopped cold just then. He brushed past Scout in a rush out the door. He pushed open the screen door with a bang and ran across the street. Scout was true to her word: The house that belonged to sweet Maudie was ablaze and her beautiful flowerbeds that she had worked on all spring and summer where wilting in the heat- some already caught ablaze.

"Maudie!" he found himself calling out, praying to God in heaven that she wasn't still inside.

"I'm here, Atticus," said a soft voice.

Atticus turned to see a woman standing there in her nightgown with a house coat pulled on over it. Maudie hadn't bothered to tie the sash, he noticed. Probably because she had been in a hurry to get out. Her hair had been combed out of its usual style that she wore during the day. It fell around her face and down her back in wavy locks of rich brown. Atticus had never seen her in this state before and he couldn't help himself as he stared at her.

She stood next to Stephanie who was chattering away in awe of the bright blaze that had engulfed Maudie's prim, white house.

He rushed towards her and was just about to embrace her when he stopped short. Maudie looked up at him with a forlorn look in her eyes as if she knew what he had wanted to do, but didn't. Atticus kept his hands firmly at his sides. Stephanie had not noticed what had just passed between her two neighbors; she continued to speak very fast in all the excitement. Maudie, however, never missed a thing.

"You're all right, then?" he asked.

She smiled, but it didn't meet her eyes. "Yes. I'm fine."

Atticus looked down at her feet and saw that she had managed to save her record player, a jewelry box, and a bucket full of small flower seed packets. Atticus wanted to smile at the sight of it. Maudie loved her flowers.

He felt Scout appear beside him. She clung to the pant leg of his trousers like most small children did and she looked up at Maudie. Maudie smiled down at her. She could always force a smile no matter how bad the circumstances were that very moment.

"Hello, Scout," she said so quietly it was almost a whisper.

"Evening, Miss Maudie," Scout said cheerfully.

Miss Maudie closed her eyes and let out a breathy laugh, but it was a tired laugh. It didn't quite shake her body like a truly-felt laugh would. Her chest merely sunk a little when she let it out. Atticus could have sworn that he saw a tear glistening on her cheek.

"Come here, Jean Louise," she said. "I need someone to hold."

Scout stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Maudie's waste. Maudie placed one hand on Scout's dark head and the other about her shoulders, pressing her close, like a mother would her daughter. She leaned down to place a kiss on Scout's dark hair.

Atticus's stomach churned. He realized then that he wanted to be the one to hold Maudie in his arms and comfort her as they hopelessly watched the flames eat away at her home. His pride kept him from turning his thoughts into actions.

She looked so breakable standing there with her head lowered and her hair falling forward to frame her face. Yet, she was so beautiful in her sadness, a bitter-sweet picture. _Oh, beautiful, sweet Maudie,_ Atticus thought to himself. Damn the crowd of gawkers that had shown up to stare at Maudie's beautiful house burning into nothing but creaking embers. Damn the fire brigade for showing up too late to save her house. But most importantly, damn his own pride.

Maudie looked anywhere but at her house as she clung onto Scout as though the girl was a lifeline. Atticus looked nowhere except at Maudie.

A fireman approached with a furry thing in this arms that looked a little singed. "Your cat, Miss," he said.

Maudie exhaled deeply as she took the feline in her arms. Scout stepped back- she detested cats. She wrinkled her nose up at the feline in Maudie's arms. The cat was a tabby with bright yellow eyes, like lamps in the darkness. The poor creature looked rather out of sorts.

"Cats are so-" Scout began.

But Atticus cut her off in a deep, powerful voice, "Scout."

Scout glanced up at him, sheepishly, before lowering her gaze to the ground.

Maudie reached over and placed a hand on Atticus's arm to stay him. He looked down at the hand that looked so small and frail, but it had a power of him that he could not describe. Atticus was silenced.

Maudie smiled down at Scout and said, "Yes, this cat may be lazy and fat with a nasty temper, but he serves at least one purpose."

Scout looked up. "What?"

"He saves me from my solitude."

Atticus blinked.

Then there was a commotion. They looked around to see the crowd that had gathered was slowly ebbing away. The chief fireman approached Maudie and explained that they couldn't save the house, but they had managed to save a few things of hers.

Firemen approached holding odd objects, all of different nature. She didn't know what to say or do, but just stand there. One man placed a pair of shoes on the ground beside her. Another man held a folded dress and the all-too familiar sunhat that she always wore when out among her flowers. They had managed to save a drawer full of fine silverware, a plate that had been painted by a relative, a few books, and a basket full of records.

Maudie swallowed as she stared at the few things that had been saved, scattered about in the grass at her feet. Atticus watched her throat tighten with the motion, stirring something deep inside of him. She took a deep breath and everyone saw how she tried to hold back emotion.

"Thank you, boys," she said. "You've done all that you could do."

They tipped their hats to her one by one before they headed over to the fire truck and drove away. Atticus watched Maudie bury her face into her cat's fur before letting the cat roam around. He turned and sent the children inside, telling them that the excitement was over. Stephanie said something about going back to the house and that she would wait up for Maudie. Apparently, Stephanie had offered Maudie a place to stay. Atticus must have missed it since he was so distracted.

After Stephanie left, Atticus remained by Maudie's side. All that was left of her house was the glowing, but burnt embers and ashes. She knelt down and picked one of the flowers that had been spared. She buried her nose in the petals and inhaled, softly.

"It's just a new beginning," she whispered.

Atticus couldn't restrain himself any longer. He reached out and took a fist full of her house coat, using it to pull her to him. She collapsed against his chest and a soft whoosh of air escaped her lungs. Atticus wrapped his arms securely around her and buried his face into her silky hair. She took in a breath of surprise before she tucked her nose under his chin and exhaled. Her warm breath tickled his neck and he pulled her closer.

All Atticus could think about was how her hands were pressed against his back, her fingers splayed out, pressing her fingertips into his clothing. He could feel their warmth through his clothes as though they were on fire. The feeling of her smooth, scented hair against his face made him want to soak her in like the sunshine after a rainy day.

It was then that he felt her tears, wet and hot against his neck. She shuddered and then a whimper escaped her throat. Atticus began to rock her back and forth as he would Scout whenever she cried. He whispered soothing nonsense in her ear.

"No, Atticus," she sobbed after a moment of this. "It is not okay!"

She leaned back and Atticus looked at her tear-streaked face and glistening eyes.

"I am sorry," was all he could say.

Maudie took a deep, shuddering breath before letting it out in a long exhale. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost control like that."

"I don't blame you." How could anyone blame her?

Her soft, succulent lips pulled back into a melancholy smile and she reached out to smooth the wrinkles of his vest. "Did I do that?"

"No. I fell asleep at my desk."

She smiled again. This time, Atticus could actually see some warmth behind it. "You've been doing that a lot lately."

"There's always so much to do before I finally go to bed in the evenings," he said.

"There just isn't enough hours in the day…."

Maudie looked him in the eye. "You lost control, too."

"What?"

"When you held me just then," she explained. "It was the first time you've ever revealed a glimpse of what you feel for me."

Atticus stared at her and she smiled at his surprise and slowly backed up.

"Thank you, Atticus. Perhaps we don't have to be as alone as we feel."


End file.
